


The Three Step Program

by ApocalypseThen



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/F, Friends help friends to pee, Mass Effect Kink Meme, Omorashi, Urination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 12:43:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16576736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApocalypseThen/pseuds/ApocalypseThen
Summary: First contact with the Collectors is too much for Miranda. She has a little accident.





	The Three Step Program

**Author's Note:**

> For a kmeme prompt:
> 
> https://masseffectkink.dreamwidth.org/9443.html?thread=47787747#cmt47787747

Miranda headed straight for her cabin the moment they boarded the Normandy. She walked gingerly.

"You take a hit, Miranda?" Shepard asked.

She forced a smile onto her face. "Nothing I can't handle."

"Debrief in thirty."

Miranda was overwhelmed with relief when Shepard turned her attention to Garrus. She fixed her gaze straight ahead and headed to her cabin as quickly as she dared. She was convinced that the crew was staring at her. Why did the Normandy have to be so damn long? They must be able to smell her by now, the elevator was still a mile away and she'd been sloshing along for hours...

Her boots were full of pee that had trickled down the leg of her outfit. Cold pee. She'd pissed herself at the first sight of a live Collector. She could hear her father's voice in her ear, scolding her. You'll never be strong enough, Miranda. You were a mistake. Look at you. Like a frightened little girl.

She'd never particularly liked insects, but it was the pods that had really terrified her. They were the vats in which she and her sisters were grown. They were the stasis pods where she found her older sisters, the ones he hadn't deemed good enough to let live. They were the glass door to his office, where she always felt trapped, no matter which side of it she was standing.

Then the Collectors had shown themselves, and she'd had a moment of pure, bowel-loosening terror. She hadn't had time to be embarrassed during the firefight.

Now she was mortified. She shut the door to her cabin behind her. She clamped down on a shuddering sigh that threatened to turn into a sob. Miranda Lawson did not cry. Not since that night she ran away, and those had been tears of relief.

Miranda Lawson didn't pee her panties either. She headed to her closet for a change of clothes. Theoretically there was no surveillance in here. Shepard's friends had a lot of off-the-book skills, however. She couldn't take anything for granted. She held each boot carefully in place as she dragged her dripping calves out of them.

Then she climbed into the closet. She'd get changed in here. No-one would ever know. If they'd noticed anything, if they had any sense, they'd never speak of it. She'd find some excuse and stay aboard the ship next time they had to...

Miranda slid down to curl up in the corner of the wardrobe. She could feel the tears waiting, ready to ambush her if she gave them an inch. Her stomach clenched. "Miranda Lawson does not cry," she whispered to herself through gritted teeth.

Her bum was cold and wet and she smelled like a urinal. She was trash. She was a back-alley dumpster in the red light district of the party town on the brothel planet, and she was on fire.

"Miranda?" Shepard called from the door. "You in here?"

Shepard's boots clumped closer. Miranda buried her face in her knees to avoid the inevitable.

Shepard saw the boots first. Miranda heard her sniff.

"Hey. Are you going to be long?"

"I'm just getting changed," Miranda said. "I won't be a minute."

Shepard crouched down. Either she didn't care, or she was oblivious to the puddle of Miranda's piss. "Is everyone welcome at this pity party?"

"It's by invitation only, Commander."

Shepard ran her hands along the rack of identical white suits. "You having trouble picking an outfit?"

"Ha-ha."

Shepard got comfortable on her knees. "You know, my first real engagement, I wore a diaper."

Miranda looked up at that, eyes wide. "What?"

"Turns out I didn't need it." She shrugged. "It's another thing soldiers have to deal with. You've got options."

"I'm not wearing a nappy."

"There wouldn't be room, would there," said Shepard, fingering the slick material of one of the hanging suits. "Then there's the combat catheter. I wouldn't recommend it. It's uncomfortable as all hell until the adrenaline kicks in. Makes you fidget. Also..."

"There's no room."

"Yep. Why can't you wear armour like everyone else?"

"My stylist would kill me. Blood and tears put this look together."

Shepard smirked. "This puffy-faced boo-hoo look?"

"Now you're being childish."

"Well, your other option is just to piss yourself."

Miranda stared at Shepard blankly. "What? Every time?"

"No, Miri, I mean right here, right now. Take back control, you know?"

"You can't be serious."

"In the Corps we call it the three-step program," Shepard said. "Step one: drink. Step two: get comfy. Step three..."

Miranda groaned and rolled her eyes. "Don't say it. Bloody military humour."

"It's no joke, Miri." Shepard folded her arms. "You go to the counsellor and they walk you through it. Sixty percent of people never have another problem."

"Thank you, Shepard, but I think I'll stay in my cupboard for now. And the foreseeable future."

"Have it your way, Miranda." Shepard stood up. "Mind if I have a drink of water?" She went to the washbasin and filled a tumbler.

Miranda rolled her eyes. "What did I do to deserve you?"

Shepard chugged the glass of water and refilled it. "Hey, you brought me back to fix all your problems."

Miranda put her face back between her knees. "I'd like to be left alone now, please."

Shepard refilled her glass again. "To really wallow in it?" She drank. "In your puddle of pee?"

"That's how I deal with things, yes," came Miranda's muffled voice.

Drink. "By overthinking them?" Refill. Shepard edged her way in to sit in the closet with Miranda.

"Give me that." Miranda grabbed the glass. "You're not helping."

"Should we get Kelly in here to talk to you?"

Miranda took a sip of water. "God no. This closet's barely big enough for two."

Shepard smiled slyly. "Hey, Miranda." Her eyelids fluttered. Miranda smelled something musty and hot. Fresh pee trickled down Shepard's crotch to pool underneath her. Yellow liquid seeped towards Miranda.

"Oh, you didn't!" Miranda scrambled to get out of the way, pressing herself against the side of the closet, but she couldn't get far enough away. She felt the warm pee seep under her thighs.

Shepard was euphoric. "Holy cow, that felt good! I never did that before. So... naughty, you know?"

Miranda held her head. "Is this why everybody likes you, Shepard? You're like a puppy that hasn't been house trained."

"Nah, I'm pretty sure it's the freckles."

Miranda had no answer to that. She sipped morosely from the glass. "You're not going to leave me alone, are you?"

Shepard grinned. "Nope. Want to give it a shot?"

"If only because I'm worried what you'll do next if I don't."

"Good call." Shepard put a hand on Miranda's lower back and started to rub her there gently.

Miranda suddenly felt warm everywhere. Her cheeks went red. "Shepard, I can't."

"Shy bladder?" Shepard sounded surprised. "It's all about control, Miranda. I thought you were good at that."

Miranda went a fetching shade of pink right down her chest. That resonated with her. She knew what Shepard meant, but she couldn't stop thinking of how she'd raged against her father, and how at the back of her mind, she knew the Illusive Man was in some way a substitute, an authority figure she told herself she could respect, but hadn't she really just fallen into the same pattern of controlling men telling her what to do? She knew what it would take. She just had to face it. "Tell me to."

Shepard's jaw dropped. "Oh, Miranda. I never would have guessed... you're..."

"Please don't make a big thing about it..." Miranda begged.

"OK. Sure. One friend to another, then." Shepard put on a stern voice. "Miranda. Piss yourself. Piss your fancy clothes."

Miranda trembled. Her tummy spasmed as she tried to make her body obey her. "It's no good, I can't!"

Shepard carried on, coming closer and closer to Miranda's ear, her hand pressing harder on Miranda's back. "Piss yourself in front of me, Miranda. Wet yourself. Come on. Wet yourself for me. Come on. That's an order!"

"Ah! Oh!" Miranda buried her face in Shepard's shoulder. She felt liquid gush out of her for the second time that day, her tight pants fighting against the pressure and making her bladder spasm before the pee found its way out. The heat of it soaked through to her skin a moment later.

They were silent for long moments. Miranda spoke first. "So that's it. I'm fixed now."

"Maybe." Shepard was grinning from ear to ear. "You might need a bit more training. We'll see."

"If I find out you've been taking the piss..."

"Excellent choice of words, XO."

"Thank you, Commander."

Shepard pulled Miranda into a hug. Their wet clothes slapped together, releasing more of their accumulated stench. "Briefing room?"

"You're not going like that." Miranda said. A note of doubt crept into her voice. "Are you?"


End file.
